


The Tree of Knowledge

by nuncatedije



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2019-07-14 04:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuncatedije/pseuds/nuncatedije
Summary: It's five years later, and Will and Lyra have each established a life for themselves in their respective worlds. Without hope, they've given up on reuniting. But Dust has plans of its own...





	1. Northern Lights

The crusty snow crunched beneath her feet. Lyra dug her boots in and dismounted the dog sled. The sun had just set, and the men who had reached the peak first had already begun to set up camp. The hanging anabaric lights glared against the icy snow. She slung her day pack against the Captain's tent which had already been set up and pulled out a smaller pouch which she tied around her waist. It was her first real expedition and she wasn't about to waste a moment of it. Abandoning the work around her, she continued on the path away from the lights and into the darkness. She walked swiftly; her eyes scanned the sky while her feet moved firmly over the uneven ground. Finally, as the glare of the lights receded into the distance, she spotted what she had been looking for.

The Northern Lights danced across the sky, pale shades of purple and blue masked with a golden sheen. Lyra fumbled in the pouch around her waist and retracted a brass instrument resembling a collapsed telescope with its lens blackened out. She placed it to her eye and gazed up at the flickering lights.

A pine martin emerged from the folds of her hood and perched on her shoulder. She moved the instrument and the creature leaned forward to gaze too.

"You can still see it, Pan," she whispered to her companion. "You can still see the other world behind the lights."

Pantalaimon felt the tug of despair and longing in Lyra's stomach and moved over to nuzzle her cheek. "You shouldn't torture yourself like this. Let's go back to the camp where we're needed."

But Lyra was not listening. The brass instrument was at her eye again as she gazed up at the skyline of the other world. It wasn't until the distant shouts broke her reverie that she started her trek back to the campsite.

* * *

Lyra entered the Captain's tent silently. The Captain stood in the middle of the room leaning over a table discussing a large map tacked to the table. She moved over to wait by the warmth of the camp stove, removing her oilskin cap so her golden hair cascaded down her shoulders. Pan darted out to be nearer to the warmth of the stove.

"Can you hear what they're saying, Pan?" Lyra whispered.

He strained his ears, trying to hear over the clatter of the camp outside. "They're discussing the last known location of this band of Tartars, I think. That's probably why they wanted you back here, you know."

Lyra shifted uncomfortably. She knew she had been sent here to practice reading the alethiometer, but she still wasn't sure she was ready to use it on her own. The meanings which had once flowed so easily together where now disjointed.

"Lyra, come here."

Lyra heard her name being called. The Captain had finished his meeting with the lower officers. He beckoned her to the table and showed her the map.

"There," he said, pointing his stubby finger at a nearby mountain range, "is where the Tartar tribe was last seen. I've sent scouts there but the area is barren. They must have vacated months ago. Consult your alethiometer. See if you can discover where they have gone. In the meantime, a squad of me and my men will go question the nearest town. It's three leagues off. I hope this will provide you with sufficient time."

Setting a determined look on her face, Lyra gave a fierce nod, which he returned curtly before turning and exiting. As the tent flap closed and the bust of cold air subsided, Lyra sank into the nearest chair.

"Oh, Pan, I'm not sure I'm ready for this…"

Pan climbed onto her lap and pulled the alethiometer from the velvet lining in the pouch around her waist. He nudged the cool metal into her hand.

"Dame Hannah thought you were ready, so you most likely are. You ought to get started now. The Captain will be back in a few hours."

She sighed, and set the alethiometer down and retrieved an old, leather bound book from her day pack, which had been brought inside the tent. Centering herself, she began to turn the dials of the alethiometer. As the needle began to swing, she felt herself lulled into the rhythm. Slowly, she began to climb down the ladder of meanings. She made meticulous notes on her pad of paper, pausing to look up a symbol here, a specific meaning there.

It was slippery, as if she would never be able to get a firm grasp on any of the meanings. It was if ever few steps she felt her foot slip. Each time, she regained her balance, and began again at the primary meaning, working her way down and making notes until she felt sure there was no more meaning underneath.

After what felt like hours, she left her trance to gaze over her notes, staring at them until they made sense. Her shoulders ached and her head felt heavy. Scanning, her notes, her eyes narrowed. Pan sensed her tension. Suddenly, comprehension dawned on her and she clamped her hands down on the notes just as the flap of the tent opened and the Captain entered.

"Our venture was fruitless. Hopefully your pursuits have not been. What have you learned."

"There is a Tartar settlement due East, about a three days journey from here." Her voice was steady, but her face was colorless and her hands trembled slightly.

"Excellent. I'll have my men map out a course. Your tent should be ready be now. I suggest you go sleep."

Lyra nodded meekly, feeling faint. She slipped the alethiometer into the pouch at her waist and trekked out to her tent at the edge of the camp. It was small and cramped, but as she was the only woman on the expedition it mattered little. The notes were still clutched in her hand. She sank down onto the edge of her cot. Pan jumped onto her lap.

"What is it? What did you see? You look as though you saw a ghost."

"Pan, the alethiometer was speaking to me, like it used to. I don't know how… I just know… but it was one of those things that the alethiometer only wanted me to know."

She was trembling all over now, and the paper shook in her hands. Pan clung to her- calming her until she could speak again.

"What did it say?"

She looked down at the notes puzzled. "That's just it, Pan. I don't really understand what it was telling me... I think it was saying 'the tree is a gift', but I'm not sure. It doesn't make sense. I think I misinterpreted the last symbol."

They sat in tense silence. Pan looked up at her timidly.

"Lyra, isn't this what you wanted? To get your abilities back?"

"Yes, Pan, but if I can read the alethiometer again, then maybe I can ask it... maybe it knows..."

The words caught in her throat. She was too afraid to voice what she desired most, for fear it would never happen.

She could ask about Will.

She could finally know for certain if there was a way to see him again.

Pan turned away from her, unable to bear the pain and longing in her eyes. For so long she had only been able to ask simple questions. Perhaps finally she would have a chance at more- before it was too late.  
"You shouldn't get your hopes up."

His voice was flat, emotionless. He had never been able to admit how badly he wanted the same thing too.

Lyra pushed him off her lap and got up off the cot. She sat at the table sulking.

"I wasn't getting my hopes up. I was just saying it's possible."

For a few moments neither spoke. Each was busy trying not to wish for the impossible. Finally, Pan pointed out they both needed sleep, especially for the journey tomorrow.

So, until sleep claimed them, they lay on the cot, aware the other was awake, but not sure what to say.


	2. Midsummer's Day

_One Month Later_

Lyra sat in the chair in front of the large oak wood desk. Her blue day frock was immaculately clean and her blond hair was pulled back into a long plait. Though she sat upright and still, her face blank and her hands resting silently in her lap, her foot scuffed impatiently at the polished wood floor.

Every few moments her eyes would dart to the window facing the busy Oxford streets. The curtains had been thrown back and the window left wide open, revealing a rare sun-drenched morning. The sounds of the market place and street traffic along with birds and laughing children wafted in.

A sharp tap on the desk caused Lyra to jump.

"Lyra, have you been listening to me?"

The kind face of Dame Hannah peered at Lyra over the rims of her reading spectacles. She wore an elegant dress of deep plum, her steel gray hair was sweep up, not a strand out of place.

"Yes," Lyra lied.

Seeing right through her, Dame Hannah pursed her lips and set down the letter she was holding.

"I would have thought you would like to know the outcome of the expedition, especially since it was such an apparent success from what I've been told."

Lyra made a face, scrunching her nose in an obvious display of her disagreement. Hannah's face relaxed into a smile. "Oh, but it was a success. Your mission was not to find the Tartars, but to practice using the alethiometer. From all accounts, you did so marvelously."

Dame Hannah beamed at her.

Lyra sighed. What good were her skills if they couldn't even help in a simple expedition?

"We will be attending a benefit for the Royal Arctic Institute tonight," Dame Hannah remarked, her attention returning to the papers on her desk.

A small strangled noise escaped Lyra at the announcement. A benefit? On Midsummer's Eve? Couldn't it be on any other night? "Why do I have to go to one of those?" she wined, a slightly desperate edge creeping into her voice.

Dame Hannah gave Lyra a sharp look. "Because you wish to be an explorer. And if you ever wish to go on another expedition, you will need funding. Therefore, you will go tonight and make connections. Besides," she added, smiling to herself, "my nephew will be there. He's only a few years older than you. I'm sure you'll have much in common."

"I doubt it," Lyra muttered under her breath.

"He's an explorer too, you know."

At least, hopefully, he wouldn't be boring. She could go, also long as she was gone before midnight.

Pan climbed back in through the open window and sulked against the wall toward Lyra's chair. Before he reached the foot of the desk, Dame Hannah spotted him. She let an exasperated sigh.

"Lyra, how many times have I told you, you need to keep your daemon closer or people are going to become suspicious."

Pan leaped onto Lyra's lap and she began stroking his back and ears. He smelled of dirt and grass.

"I'll pick you up at eight for the benefit. The rest of the afternoon is yours." She gave a slight tilt of her head and returned to her papers, dismissing Lyra.

Lyra leaped up, gathering Pan against her, trying not to appear too eager to leave. She opened the front door, not waiting to be shown out. She was there to often to be concerned with appearing proper.

Sighing, she let the fresh air wash over her. "It's not fair that I have to sit through meetings while you're outside," she said, frowning down at her daemon.

"You're the one who wants those classes," he replied.

"Don't be silly, Pan. You want to read the alethiometer just as much as I do."

They strolled the next three blocks in silence, enjoying the sights and sounds of Oxford on a beautiful day. All too soon, they were upon the brick house and its manicured garden, on the gate hung a brass sign reading "St. Sophia's School for Young Ladies".

* * *

That evening her maid helped her into a gown of deep sapphire blue and swept her long hair off her neck, securing it with an ivory comb. Promptly at eight, Dame Hannah was in front of the school to escort Lyra to the benefit. The school's butler handed Lyra into the unadorned black car. Lyra sat by the window, smoothing the wrinkles out of her skirt.

"Now, Lyra," Dame Hannah began warningly as they pulled up to a large granite building, "I expect you to be on your best behavior. That includes dancing."

Lyra winced. "But I hate dancing. I always make a fool of myself."

Dame Hannah made no reply but looked at her reproachfully.

They entered the large reception hall and Lyra's mind was transported back into memories of the great ice halls of Svalbard. The entire place was crystalline white. The walls and floor were solid white marble, and overhead hung a large crystal chandelier, each light refracting and reflecting against the dozens of mirrors lining the hall.

"Do try not to gape, Lyra. It's quite unbecoming."

Lyra promptly closed her mouth. She looked around, observing the guests. Dame Hannah had taken her to several parties and dinners over the past few years, but all of them had been like the one Mrs. Coulter had held. People would stand around and talk about a variety of tedious subjects and Lyra would feign interest, nodding politely.

But this was different. Everyone was dressed so fashionably. Groups were clustered throughout the hall, dancing, talking, even laughing. And the daemons! She had never seen such well behaved daemons. Birds perched serenely on shoulders while those with legs waited patiently by their humans sides. She set Pan down by her feet and he sat up straight, imitating the daemons surrounding them.

A few feet ahead of them a young man with a sparrow hawk resting on his shoulder stood talking animatedly to a group of older men. His dark blond hair was swept back, and his light blue eyes seemed to glow with excitement as he explained something to his colleagues. He looked up and noticed Dame Hannah and Lyra, and excused himself from the discussion and made his way toward the two of them.

Smiling broadly, he bowed slightly. "My dear aunt, it has been too long."

"Yes, it has been. Please, allow me to introduce my pupil, Lyra Belacqua. Lyra, this is my nephew Jude Relf."

Lyra extended her hand, which he took, bowing over slightly. So this was her nephew. Perhaps the evening wouldn't be too much of a waste after all.

Dame Hannah gave a sly smile. "I believe I spot some people I must pay my respects to, but please do get to know each other better."

Lyra paled. This wasn't what she had in mind. The last thing she needed was a match-maker. She turned to Jude, who continued to smile at her, either unconcerned or unaware of the awkwardness of the situation. His daemon, however, shifted from foot to foot uneasily.

"My aunt tells me you were recently on an expedition up north."

"Yes," Lyra said, surprised. Dame Hannah talked about her?

"But it wasn't successful," she quickly added. "We never found the Tartar settlement we were looking for."

"A pity. I'm an explorer, too. I'm not sure if my aunt mentioned it, but I'm only recently back from the north myself."

There conversation became more relaxed. He told her stories of his explorations up north, and she told him about hers, leaving out the parts which needed the most explaining. Thankfully, he asked few questions.

"In our most recent explorations, we found the most unusual tree," he continued, recounting his latest trip.

"A tree?" Lyra said skeptically. She didn't see anything particularly interesting about that. Jude sensed her cynicism.

"It's not just any tree," he defended. "We've never encountered anything like it. We've temporarily classified it as its own species. It's currently at the Botanic Garden. Perhaps I could take you there one afternoon and show you?" He looked at her inquiringly.

"Perhaps."

She didn't wanted him to take her there. She didn't want anyone to take her there. That was where she went to be near Will.

He must have seen the dismay in her face because he quickly changed the subject. "Perhaps you would do me the honor of dancing with me?"

She could think of no objection, and it would please Dame Hannah, so she offered her hand and he lead her to the dance floor.

Lyra focused on the dance, trying to overcome her natural clumsiness. However, Jude was a strong leader, and for the first time she found she could dance and hold a conversation at the same time.

"How is it that you came to be a pupil of my aunt?" he inquired.

"I am currently a student at St. Sophia's School for Young Ladies, but next year I will be enrolling at the college."

He looked taken aback at this statement. "What's so surprising about that?" she asked defensively.

"Nothing. I'm just not accustomed to meeting beautiful scholars."

He smiled at her again, his blue eyes catching the light.

Lyra felt her face grow hot. With a final turn, the dance came to an end. He lead her to the edge of the floor. "Wait here, I'll get us drinks."

She watched as he disappeared into the crowd. Somewhere in the distance a bell tolled. It was eleven. Pan tugged at the edge of her skirt. "We need to go soon, or we'll be late."

"Hush, Pan. I know. I have a plan."

Jude reappeared, holding two flutes of glistening champagne. Lyra politely took one. With her other hand she fanned herself.

"Do you feel well?" He sounded concerned.

"It's nothing, I'm just a little overheated..." she said as she crumpled against him.

Within minutes, she was in the car on the way back to the school to get ready for the rest of her evening.

* * *

In her room, she dismissed her maid, saying she could undress herself. Once she was sure she was alone, she changed into a midnight blue dress, and dug a rusty old key out of her bureau drawer. It was the spare key to the front gate, which she had nicked that morning after breakfast.

She opened the window and climbed down the vine covered trellis. She silently made her way to the front gate. Pan stuck is head through the bars, checking if the coast was clear. The old gate creaked as she pulled it open, and she slipped past it as soon as it was wide enough to let her through.

They quickly made their way through the abandoned streets toward the Botanic Garden. She slumped down on the bench she came to every year just as the clock struck midnight. Pan jumped onto her lap and she stroked him affectionately.

"I don't trust him."

"Who, Pan?" she asked. Her eyes were closed as a warm breeze washed over the both of them.

"Dame Hannah's nephew."

Lyra laughed and opened her eyes. "Why not? He seemed nice enough."

Pan shifted uncomfortably. "His daemon is a hawk. I don't trust them. Their eyes are always hooded."

"You're being ridiculous, Pan. You didn't even meet his daemon. We were at a benefit. Anyway, I don't want to think about Dame Hannah's nephew. I want to think about Will."

Her eyes closed again, becoming pensive. Occasionally she and Pan spoke, but generally they were quiet. No words were needed. From time to time, warm tears would course down Lyra's checks, or a faint smile would play across her lips and she relived her past, the moments she spent with Will.

As she relived, she lay across the bench, holding Pan to her chest, and imagining Will at that exact spot in his own world. Before her hour was over, the warm night air and Pan's rhythmic breathing lulled her into a dreamless sleep.

Hours later, Pan's stirring woke Lyra from her peaceful slumber. The signs of rosy light could be seen in the eastern horizon. Lyra stretched her limbs and sat up.

"We had better go now if we're going to avoid getting caught," Pan said, leaping off the bench and moving in the direction of the boarding house.

But Lyra's attention was elsewhere. "Pan, what's that over there?" she said, gesturing over toward a faint golden glow.

"Whatever it is, it isn't important, Lyra. We need to go now," Pan said anxiously.

Lyra ignored him and headed toward the light. Unsure of what to do, Pan followed her. The source of the light was a large tree, enclosed in all directions by a circle of rope. Yet, the tree was neither the source of the light, nor was the light shining on it. Instead, it was as if thick clouds of a translucence golden sheen surrounded the tree, encasing it.

Pan ran around the tree to the plaque in front of it. "It's the tree that Dame Hannah's nephew found. If you want to know about it you can just ask him. Can't we go now? Lyra! What are you doing!"

Pan darted over to her as she lifted the rope encircling the tree and climbed under it. "I want to touch it, Pan. The tree… something about it. It seems so familiar."

It was if she could feel the tree, silently pulling her toward it. Pan was frantic now, rushing about her, unsure how to stop her. She picked him up, and he twisted in her arms, but she continued forward, driven by her curiosity and the magnetism of the tree's glow.

When she reached the golden sheen, she reached forward and pressed her fingers against it. It was thicker than the air around her, but her fingers sunk in, making her skin tingle pleasantly. Withdrawing her hand, she looked down at her fingers. They glistened slightly in the morning light. He head felt light. She wanted to feel the light again.

She took a deep breath and stepped in completely. Pan let out a slight shriek, which was soon muffled by the thick vapor. Her whole body tingled now. She let the feeling sink into her. Pan stopped struggling and pressed into her chest. The whole world shimmered and blurred, the same, yet different.

Finally, when she needed another breath, she stepped out. Pan leaped from her arms. The tingling sensation remained for a moment. She smiled to herself, her mind still slightly hazy.

Pan shook himself out. "Now can we go?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

They walked side by side out of the Botanic Garden. The streets were still abandoned, but somehow they appeared different. She began to cross the street when suddenly a loud horn sounded. She leaped back, terrified, as a large car screeched to a halt in front of her.

"What were you thinking?" the driver yelled. "Always look before you cross!"

His expression softened at her shocked face.

"You are okay, right?"

She nodded, not trusting her own voice.

"Well, good. Just be careful next time," he added gruffly.

She nodded again, and the car drove away.

Gathering Pan against her once again, she moved to a nearby bench to collect her thoughts. There weren't any cars like that in her world. In fact, that had only happened to her once before. Her heart caught in her throat. She could feel the blood pounding in her head. Was it even possible? Looking around her, she knew in her gut it was true.

She was in Will's Oxford.


	3. Beginnings

Her breath caught. "Pan!" she choked out.

"Yes, Lyra, I know!"

Her head spun as she took in the world around her. The morning air was fresh and crisp, just as in her Oxford, but somehow it tasted sweeter. The sun was warm, but somehow brighter. Even the trees were the same green, but moved differently in the breeze. A surge swept through her body. She felt invincible- finally, after years of waiting and dreaming, she was going to see Will again!

A sharp nip at her wrist brought her thoughts back to the present. Pan sat fretting, his paws scratching at the seam of her dress. "It's all very well that we got here, but how on earth do you plan to find Will and Dr. Malone?" he asked agitatedly. "They could be anywhere in Oxford. That is, if they're still in Oxford."

The tingling in her limbs vanished and she went numb, and her feeling of elation was replaced by the lead knot sinking in her stomach. Pan was right. Oxford was huge, and she had no idea where to start. But at least she was certain Will was still in Oxford. He had to be. "Last night was Midsummer's eve, so of course Will is in here. He would have to be in order to have gone to the Botanic Garden last night," Lyra said firmly, as if to erase all doubt.

Pan looked up at her will sad eyes. "Yes… but what if-"

Lyra jumped up, pushing Pan off of her. Angry tears stung the corners of her eyes. "Don't you dare, Pan! Of course he would! He said he would."

"I'm sorry, Lyra. I didn't mean to say otherwise." He gave her a wary look and began to groom his fur. Lyra paced in front of the bench, staring intently at the empty street, hoping an idea would come to her. Last time she was alone in Will's world, she had the alethiometer to guide her. She fingered the golden disk in her pocket, the warm metal soothing her nerves. She still couldn't read it without the book- but what harm was there in trying? Pulling out the compass, she sat back down on the bench. Pan immediately stopped grooming himself and hesitantly approached her. She rubbed his ears; there was no use staying upset with him at a time like this.

For the next few minutes she was oblivious to the world around her. She waited patiently and watched the slender hands swing, hoping some meaning would come to her. Finally, after five minutes, she sat back up, blinking slightly, her brow furrowed in concentration. Pan nudged her arm and she spoke. "The only symbol I understood was the baby. It meant something about the beginning."

Pan was nonplussed. "Does that mean we need to repeat our whole journey? Or that we have to go home?" His voice rose in distress.

"I don't think so. I was asking how to find Will and Dr. Malone, so the answer wouldn't involve going home." She stroked his fur absentmindedly, but he didn't calm down. "The beginning of me finding Will was Cittàgazze, so I don't think that will help. But I did find Mary in this world… at the Dark Matter Research Unit. That was a beginning."

"You don't think she'd actually be working there? They were trying to close the place before she left. Wait! Lyra!"

But Lyra had already launched herself in the direction of the city's center, and Pan's comments were met with no response.

* * *

By that afternoon, they stood in front of the steps of the same tall square building Lyra had visited almost six years ago. Finding it hadn't been too difficult. Lyra had found a local directory at an information center. Now came the hard part.

"How is it, exactly, that you plan on getting inside?" Pan asked, eyeing the guard at the front desk. He was young, only a few years older than Lyra, and currently preoccupied with eating a sandwich. A large glob of mustard fell on his shirt and he let out a mild oath. She walked purposefully toward the stairwell. People were always more likely to believe you if you looked like you had a purpose.

"Where do you think you're going?" called a voice behind her.

Lyra came to a halt. Apparently, the guard had not been distracted enough.

"I'm meeting with Dr. Hoffmann," she said, picking a name off the directory behind him.

As he looked her over, Pan slipped out of sight.

"Gimme a second. I'll let him know you're here."

The guard picked up the phone and began to dial up to Dr. Hoffman's office. Lyra felt her stomach tighten.

"Please, don't do that! I want to surprise him. He's a family friend and doesn't know I'm coming."

She smiled sweetly, playing with a lock of her blonde hair.

The guard looked unsure for a moment, but then decided against it. "I'm sorry miss, but- good God!"

Suddenly, a large cloud of sparks and smoke erupted behind the guard and a slightly singed Pan jumped into Lyra's arms. "Run," he hissed.

Without needing to be told twice, she darted up the stairwell while the guard dealt with the tangle of sparking wires behind his desk. Panting, she reached the second floor. Her hands trembled slightly as she entered the hallway and walked toward the door labeled DARK MATTER RESEARCH UNIT.

_Let her be here. Let her be here._  Lyra silently prayed to herself.

She felt as if her feet were separate from her own body, moving of their own accord, as she reached the large, black door. Almost too softly to hear, she knocked on the frame. A middle aged man stuck his head out. His chestnut hair was in disarray, as though he had never looked in a mirror while grooming, and his eyes were framed by square, black glasses. In one hand he still held a crumpled paper and a pair of lab goggles. He gave her a hassled look, until he noticed Pan nestled in her arms. A dark expression crossed his eyes, revealing a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

"Can I help you and you're er... pet?"

"Yes," Lyra began, her voice cracking. "I'm looking for Dr. Mary Malone."

The color drained from his face. "There is no one here by that name. Don't come back here."

He slammed the door in her face. Unsure of what to do, Lyra stood there for a moment.

"There talking in there," she whispered.

"Can you hear them?"

She pressed her ear up against the thick door, vaguely making out the words.

"Who was it Stan? You look like you saw a ghost."

"Someone was asking for Dr. Mary Malone."

"What?!"

"And I think she had a daemon."

"She?"

"Yea, a young girl. I think it was a pine martin."

"A pine martin... that's impossible."

Suddenly Lyra heard a thud, at the door was thrown open. Standing before her was Dr. Mary Malone, a shocked expression on her face.

"Dr. Malone!" Lyra exclaimed, launching herself into the woman's arms.

Her arms wrapped automatically back around the girl. "Lyra, how is this possible?"

She held her an arms length away and studied her face. "You didn't find a way to fix the knife did you?"

She shook her head. "I was in the Botanic garden and there was a tree… and suddenly everything was golden… and Pan and I weren't sure how to find you… but you're here!" In the excitement Lyra lost the ability to form coherent sentences. Dr. Malone led Lyra to a small table in the corner of the lab. It took three times before Lyra was able to give an explanation of how she came to be there. The whole time, the man with the messy chestnut hair stood off to the side, listening intently. His eyes were wide with excitement, though he seemed to have no trouble understanding Lyra's explanation, as though crossing worlds was a perfectly explainable thing. As Lyra regained awareness of her surroundings, she noticed him, and looked between him and Dr. Malone questioning.

Dr. Malone jumped up. "Oh Lyra, this is Dr. Stan Seymour. He's my partner here at the Dark Matter Research Unit. He's also my, uh, fiancée."

At this last pronouncement, Dr. Malone blushed furiously. Dr. Stan Seymour, however, bound forward and shook Lyra's hand enthusiastically. "I'm so happy to meet you," he beamed. "Call me Stan. I never though this moment would happen, with the worlds being closed up and all. Mary talks about you all the time, and of course so does Will."

Lyra let out a small squeak. "So Will is around here then," she said, trying her best to not sound too anxious. She most likely failed. They could probably hear her heart pounding from where they were standing.

Dr. Malone and Stan exchanged glances. She cleared her throat. "We all live together- Stan and, and Will and his mother. I'm guessing you want to see him, so I don't see any reason Stan and I can't finish up our project tomorrow."

It most likely took them no more than five minutes to gather their things, but that time coupled with the car ride to there shared house felt like torture to Lyra. Pan was incapable of remaining still, flitting between her lap and shoulders, and pawing at her wrists. Stan had considered calling up Will and letting him know, but had decided against it when he realized there were no words for the situation. Besides, why torture Will by making him wait as well. Were they ever going to get there?

Her thoughts were drawn into the present for a moment by something Dr. Malone was saying. "When Will and I returned, we learned the men hunting us were an underground organization similar to your Magisterium. An opposing faction who knew of our situation gave us new identities and protected us until their downfall. By then, we had all settled into our new lives, and I was doing so well here at the Dark Matter Research Unit now that we could get funding, that it seemed like too much of a hassle to change our lives again."

After that, Stan chatted about their work in the background while Lyra stared dazed out the window as they entered a quiet suburban neighborhood. Kids played in the neatly manicured lawns of the two-story houses. She wanted to listen, but couldn't concentrate on his words. Lyra could hardly imagine Will or Dr. Malone living in a neighborhood like this. How much had he changed? They had promised each other they would try to move on, but would he actually have done it? She swallowed convulsively.

Finally, they pulled into a driveway of one of the two-story houses. The shutters needed to be repainted pale green, and the lawn was unkempt, but otherwise it matched the surrounding houses. A young man and an older woman worked in the front yard. The woman knelt in the dirt, pulling weeds from the flowerbed. The man's black hair glinted in the sunlight, and he wore an unbuttoned white cotton shirt, revealing broad shoulders and a lightly bronzed skin. He wore a type of blue canvas trousers Lyra remembered were common in this world. He threw a burlap sack over his shoulder with ease and moved it across the yard. The sun hit her eyes and she was unable to make out his features. Beside him paced a cat whose fur was infinite shades of ink black, mist grey, and midnight blue.  _Kirjava?_

Dear God, it was  _Will_.

Blood rushed to her head and her heartbeat pulsed in her ears, drowning out almost all sound. She held the edge of the car for support. Mary came around next to her and waved excitedly to the two men, getting their attention. The man behind the wheelbarrow looked up and waved merrily back, but Lyra's attention was fixed completely on Will. Will froze, the bag slipping from his shoulder, Kirjava leaping out of the way just as it hit the ground with a heavy thud. After what felt like an eternity, he slowly approached her and Pan.

"Lyra?" he whispered in disbelief.

She tried to nod, but her muscles refused to move. Will pulled off his gardening gloves and gently laid a hand on the Pan's back. Lyra trembled at the intimacy, remembering years ago when they had done the same thing. Pan jumped from her arm and went to join Kirjava on the lawn.

"I never thought I'd get to see you again," Will said, his voice raw with emotion. His intense eyes searched her face, uncertain whether or not she was real.

"I didn't think so either." She could barely keep her voice above a whisper.

Bursting with excitement, Lyra through her arms around Will. He picked her up, and spun around, planting a firm kiss on her lips. At that moment, Lyra could swear she tasted red berries again.

He set her back down, and placed his hand against her check. Staring at her face, he rememorized her features. Without the sun in her eyes, she could see his face clearly. Looking at him, she knew it was still the same Will, her Will. His features had become sharper, more defined. His strong jaw gave him a fierce, determined look, though now was soften by his smile.

"Will?"

The woman had risen from the flower bed and was looking at the pair questioningly.

"Mother!" he called out jubilantly to the woman standing on the lawn. She wore an outdoor apron over floral patterned house dress and a confused expression, as if she had never seen her son act that way before. "There's someone I want you to meet!"

Before she could protest, Will lead her across the lawn to the woman. He beamed at the two of them. "Mother, this is Lyra Silvertongue. Lyra, this is my mother."

Unsure of what to do, Lyra held out her hand. "I'm pleased to meet you Mrs. Parry," she said nervously.

The woman's eyes softened and she gave Lyra a motherly hug. Holding her away from her, she looked her over. "So you're Lyra," she said thoughtfully. "But I thought it was impossible to cross worlds now. How did you get here?"

She fidgeted slightly. "That's the thing. I'm not entirely certain how I got here."

She was lead inside, and for what was likely the fourth time that day, Lyra launched into an explanation of how she came to be in Will's world. Once everyone was seated, she told them about the tree in the Botanic Garden, how it had glowed, and how she had suddenly found herself in Will's Oxford. As she spoke, Mrs. Parry prepared dinner in the adjoining kitchen. Lyra's stomach growled loudly and she remembered that she had not eaten since the previous night, before the benefit. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

Dinner was a chaotic affair. Everyone ate at a large round table in the dinning room connecting to the kitchen. She was seated between Will and Stan. On one side, Stan bombarded her with questions about her world, hanging on to her every syllable. Will touched her constantly, brushing his hand across hers, laying it on her shoulder, stroking her hair, as if breaking contact would cause her to disappear. Everyone lingered after dinner, and Lyra quickly got to know Stan and Will's mother.

"Tomorrow night I think we should go look at the tree," Mary announced when she finally stood from the table. There was a general nod of agreement. She and Stan left for their apartment in the basement and Mrs. Parry went off to find Lyra a set of clothes to sleep in.

"You'll be staying in the guest room, by Will. Now, I don't want to hear any doors opening and closing in the night," she warned, giving Will a pointed look, before giving them each a kiss on the forehead. Will lead her down the hall to their rooms, his arm firmly around her waist.

"Your mother seems to be doing very well," Lyra commented when they reached her door.

"Yes, she is. When we got back, Mary helped find some of the best doctors for her."

She chewed her lip, silently musing. "Will, Dr. Malone had to change her name. Did you too?"

"Yes."

"What did you change it to?"

He smiled sheepishly. "They let me choose. I thought Will Silvertongue was a nice name."

With that, he kissed a stunned Lyra goodnight.


	4. Forbidden Fruit

While no doors opened and closed that night in the Parry household, Will and Lyra found a different way to be together.

On the living room sofa, a pine martin and a multi-colored cat lay curled against one another while their other halves slept. From the couch they could see out the back porch and up at the night sky. On a clear night, such as that night, the stars were visible, and Pan and Kirjava were able to pretend it was still five years ago, and they were laying under a different set of stars in a very different world. Unlike their human counterparts, they saw less of a need to clutter their reunion with words, so when they did speak, it was mostly to talk about their humans. After a particularly lengthy silence, which was really filled with just as much meaning as any conversation, Kirjava did return to the subject of Will and Lyra.

"They promised each other they would move on."

Pan tensed, his ears flicking at the unasked question which hung in the air. He steeled himself. "Did Will actually do it?"

"Of course not."

He relaxed against her, nuzzling behind her ear. "Neither did she."

They were silent for a few moments, letting their fur brush against one another. "I don't think they could have even if they tried," Kirjava added.

Pan turned and looked into the cats yellow eyes.

"No one would ever understand what they've been through. They have each other, or they're alone."

"I don't want it to be like last time," Pan said. His still remembered the pain of learning that Will and Lyra were going to be separated.

"It doesn't feel like last time," Kirjava said thoughtfully.

"Let's just hope it stays that way."

Once again the silence engulfed them.

* * *

Though Lyra didn't want to waste a moment she had with Will, her body had other ideas. Exhaustion won, and she ended up sleeping close to noon. She came downstairs to find Will in the kitchen with his mother. They had made brunch for everyone, and the others had just sat down to begin eating. Lyra paused at the edge of the scene. She smiled to herself as she watched Will help his mother with the food. It brought back memories of no matter how dire their situation seemed, Will always seemed to also have the capacity to worry for his mother's safety and health, even if she was worlds away. A small piece of her wanted to join in the special moment between mother and son- her own experience with maternal affection had been severely lacking. But she couldn't bring herself to move or shatter the beauty of the simple domestic moment. Will looked up from the dish he was drying and smiled brightly. "I made you an omelette."

She laughed, remembering their time in Cittàgazze. Over brunch, Stan continued to explain what they did at the Dark Matter Research Unit.

"It's really just a continuation of what you do with the alethiometer," he began, shoveling omelette into his mouth in between sentences. "We test for the conscious responses of dust. You know, how it responds to its environment, looking for patterns, how it changes, things like that. I'm sure you know all about it."

Dr. Malone had lent Lyra a shirt and skirt to wear that day, until they could go shopping for clothes for her. It was assumed she would be staying for awhile, or at least until they figured out how she got there. She wasn't exactly sure how she would get back. Stan turned to Mary and began telling her one of his theories about the tree. He became so animated he knocked over the pitcher of orange juice in the process. Lyra bit back a laugh. He had his own awkward charm. She could she why Dr. Malone liked him. He was just as passionate about dust as the rest of them.

"We'll go to the Botanic Garden at dusk. The Garden will be closed and no one will be there to disturb us. Stan and I will mostly just be taking readings and observations, but I'm sure you and Will will want to come."

After the brunch, Dr. Malone and Stan slipped off to the lab for a few hours to collect a few instruments and prepare for that night. With the whole afternoon free, Will decided to take Lyra out to a nearby park so they could talk. They left their own daemons together in the yard, where they were quite content together. A boy and his cat wasn't odd. However a boy, his cat, a girl, and her pine martin did seem a bit out of place among all the houses and their mowed lawns and trimmed hedges. The houses seemed so different from her world. To her, they looked like boxes on squares of grass, not homes. When they reached the park, he lead her past the swings and concrete where the children were playing, to the edge of the park, and through the curtain of a willow tree. The swaying leaves concealed them from the outside world, but the could still see out to a world shaded green.

Will sat down against the tree and pulled Lyra against him. "So what have you been doing for five years?"

The question seemed utterly inadequate as the two launched into stories of how their lives had progress since they had last seen one another. After Will had been given a new identity, and any threat to him, Dr. Malone, or their research was taken care of, he was able to go on with a normal life. Or as normal a life as it could get for him. He told her about public school and his plans for the future.

"You want to be a doctor?" She looked at him curiously.

"Yea, I just have this way of knowing what's wrong with someone..." he was looking off in the distance, at nothing in particular. The determination had returned to his face. Coming out of his trance, he steered their conversation back to the past five years of their life. Will was eager to hear about her expedition up North, and they spent the next half hour recounting various events from their past. On the other hand, he seemed to find her years a St. Sophia's very amusing.

"You went to dances?" he said laughing.

"What's so funny about that?" she said scowling at his smirk.

"Nothing. It's just I can't imagine you in a gown, all dressed up, and  _dancing_." He started laughing again.

"Just so you know, there are plenty of men in my world who are good dancers, and who don't mind dancing with me," she huffed, making to stand up. "I'm not that clumsy," she added under her breath.

"Lyra..."

He pulled her back down, but began laughing again at the sullen expression on her face. Unable to keep a straight face, she began to laugh too. Through the wall of leaves, they saw the sun begin to set in the horizon and began to walk back to the house.

* * *

The last rays of the sun were disappearing as they approached the tree. The golden glow still surrounded it, but it was somehow fainter, and Lyra had no desire to touch it. The magnetism which had previously pulled her to it was gone.

"Well, we better get started," Dr. Malone said, pulling a variety of silver instruments from the black duffel bag which she carried.

Suddenly, as the last ray of light left the sky, the aura surrounding the tree vanished.

"It's gone!"

Lyra rushed forward to touch the tree. Her hand felt the smooth bark, but the air was normal, not thick. There was no tingling this time. She stepped back and looked at the tree itself. She had never actually gotten a good look at it. She had been too preoccupied with the light. The tree had smooth, light bark and low branches that jutted out, perfect for climbing. Every branch ended in thick clusters of dark green leaves. Squinting slightly she could see small, white flower buds nestled between the leaves. She had never paid much attention to trees, but she would have to say this one was beautiful. She wondered how Jude had transported it from his expedition. Who had found it in Will's world? She looked around for a plaque but saw none.

"Well, that's just great," Stan groaned behind her, bringing her back to reality. "Now we'll have to wait until dawn for any tests. That is, if the thingy reappears at dawn."

Dr. Malone looked resigned. "We should still test it now. There's probably still dust."

Lyra, however, had other ideas. "Hey, Will..."

Before he could see where she had gone, she had begun climbing the branches of the tree.

He quickly caught up with her. "You can't climb trees. At least not now anyways."

"And why not?

He grinned. "Because they turned you into a lady at that fancy school of yours, and ladies don't climb trees."

Lyra scowled. "No I en't! You take that back right now, Will Parry."

"Or what?"

Making a face, she pushed him. Rather than lose his balance, he jumped from the tree. Laughing, he called up to her. "Alright, I take it back! Come down!"

Dr. Malone looked up from her instrument. "Wait, Lyra, before you come down, could you break me down one of those branches with the flowers?"

"Sure."

She began to climb higher, toward the edge of one of the branches. When she reached the end, she snapped off a piece with buds. As she turned to climb back down, a burst of red caught her eye. Looking up, she saw an apple. She sat there, mesmerized by it. It was the purest red she had ever seen. There were no imperfections, it's surface was completely smooth and unmarred. Like the light, she had to touch it, to taste it.

"Hey, Will, I didn't realize this was an apple tree."

He didn't seem to hear her. She reached forward to take it. There was a sudden movement as a small snake slithered up the branch toward the apple. She brushed it away and plucked the apple. Bringing it to her lips, she took a bite. It was the sweetest apple she had ever tasted. The juice dripped down her chin and she wiped it away with her hand. She wanted to share this with Will. She hurried back down the tree to find him. He was sitting off a ways, on their bench.

"Here, try this."

She thrust the apple into his hand.

"Where did you get this?"

"It was in the tree. Just taste it. It's the most delicious apple you'll ever taste."

"Are you sure you should be eating that tree's fruit?" He looked at it hesitantly, then at her eager face. She nodded, and with a shrug, he took a bite of the apple.

His eyes widened as he bit into the sweet fruit. The juice pooled at the corner of his lips. Lyra leaned forward to kiss it off, and her lips brushed against his. The light contact made her heart jump, and her face flushed hot. Will turned his head and deepened the kiss, pressing his lips back against hers. His hand slipped up and tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck. Intoxicated, she snaked her arms around him, leaning into him for support. Together they sank down until they were sitting on the bench. His tongue dipping into the contours of her mouth, and she pulled him closer to her until they were pressed against one another. His hand slipped under the hem of her shirt, drawing soft circles on her back with the pad of his thumb. She shivered at the gentle touch. This was nothing like their previous chaste kisses. This kiss left her confused, wanting more.

Through the haze of her mind, she heard a voice calling out. Will lifted his mouth from hers, and leaving her feeling empty, as though something had been wrenched from inside her. She looked up at his face. His dark eyes bore into hers with their usual determination, but it too was somehow different, somehow less in control. He shook himself slightly before standing up and pulling her to her feet. "Mary's calling us. We should go."

Beside the bench, the apple lay forgotten.


	5. Connected

Through the fog of her brain, Lyra heard panicked voices. The crack of glass shattering pierced the air. A sharp yelp of pain brought Lyra back to the present moment.

"Dr. Malone!" she called out, running back towards the tree. Will followed right behind her, their daemons sprinting at their heels.

She saw Mary on the ground, clasping her hand to her chest. Stan hunched over her, murmuring soothing words and trying to coax her into showing him her hand. Lyra could see the blood dripping onto the ground. Stan pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around Mary's hand. Holding her by her elbows, he pulled Mary to her feet. Will came over to help steady her.

"What happened?" Lyra asked. She and Will had only been gone for a second, hardly enough time for someone to attack. Lyra's eyes searched the empty darkness, the tree still giving off a golden glow illuminating the area... but there were no signs of other life. They were alone in the garden.

"There was some sort of surge. Coming from the tree," she added seeing Will and Lyra's shocked expressions. "Did you not see it?" she asked.

Lyra's face flushed. She had been too focused on Will to notice anything else. But her euphoria from Will's kisses eclipsed any shame she felt for her inattentiveness. She could still feel the warmth of his lips pressing into hers.

"No, we were over by the bench," Lyra admitted.

Stan was more shaken, his limbs trembling. "It was the Dust!" he exclaimed, waving his arm towards the tree. His glasses were askew on the bridge of his nose.

Despite her injury, remained calm. "Yes, it must have been the Dust. The glow was fading, but then seemed to gather energy. It was glowing even brighter than before. Did you really not see it?" she asked, uncertain.

"We weren't facing that way," Will said, his face impassive.

"The whole field expanded away from the tree," she continued. "It was about to engulf us. When the light hit my spectrometer, it shattered in my hand. That's when I yelled and then the light disappeared again."

She frowned, displeased with the Dust's inconsistent actions. "But why...?" she wondered out loud, her voice tinged with frustration. "What conditions changed? Was there an environmental trigger?"

"Dunno," said Will, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Her brow creased as she stared over her fiancée's shoulder at the tree. "What happened when you were up in the tree?"

Lyra's heart froze. The apple... She glanced at Will, who looked uncomfortable, his eyes shifting away from Mary.

"Er, well..." Lyra stumbled over the words. She would have to tell Mary about taking the apple. The shame that had been at bay now washed over her. Mary would think she was still an impetuous child for eating fruit off a glowing tree.

Stan saved her from having to answer. "You can question them when we get back. I'm going to patch you up first."

Mary opened her mouth to protest but stopped at the determined look on his face. "Oh, all right. Let me find the spectrometer first," she said, searching the ground. With the light of the tree diminished it was harder to see their surroundings.

"It's here," Lyra said, going a few feet off. On the ground she could see the splintered glass, the main body of the instrument still intact. She brushed aside the large shards with her shoe and picked up the instrument by the handle.

"Do you think it recorded any of that?" Mary asked, full of new hope.

Stan looked frustrated by Mary's refusal to leave. "I'll take the computer chip into the lab for analysis. It might not have been completely fried, but please let me patch you up first," he pleaded.

Seeing the instrument was safe with Lyra, Mary acquiesced. His arm wrapped around her waist, a harried Stan to lead her back to the car. Lyra and Will walked together without saying anything. Energy still coursed between them, as if connected by an invisible force. She could sense his frustration at having missed something so important. He reached for her hand in the darkness.

Lyra took one last glance back at the tree before sliding into the backseat. It was possible that, like the Dust, the tree was conscious and didn't like having things taken from it. She said a silent prayer, pleading with the tree not to be mad at her.

* * *

As Will's home was closer to the Botanic Garden, they went there to examine Mary's hand. The car tires screeched into the driveway, waking Will's mother. A lone lamp flickered on in the master bedroom, followed by a trail of lights leading to the front door. The anxious face of Mrs. Parry peered through the screen.

"Will, is that you?" Her voice cracked as she questioned the darkness.

"Yes, Dr. Malone's been injured. Get the first aid kit." His voice was commanding but reassuring in its strength. Mrs. Parry gasped and went back into the house to get supplies.

Stan insisted on carrying Mary into the kitchen, to her great annoyance. "It's my hand that's hurt, my legs are fine," she complained.

Lyra noticed despite her words she didn't fight to get out of her fiancée's arms. "You could be in shock," Stan said stubbornly, setting her down by the kitchen sink.

Mrs. Parry came in carrying a plastic box of assorted supplies. Her face blanched as she took in Mary. The handkerchief had soaked though. Wet splotches of blood-stained Mary's shirt where she cradled her hand.

"Was it... those men...?" She turned to her son, her eyes wide with terror.

"No," he comforted his mother. "Just an accident. Some glass got in her palm."

He wrapped his arm around his mother and lead her from the room reassuring her. He didn't want her near the blood. Lyra stood in the corner with Pan, unsure how to help but not wanting to be useless. She kept her hands busy, rearranging the broken spectrometer across the dining table.

Mary stood by the kitchen sink as Stan bumbled through the box of supplies. "This will sting a bit," he apologized, pouring hydrogen peroxide on Mary's palm.

Her face was pale, but she didn't wince. "It's not that bad," she said, patting Stan's shoulder.

Will returned without his mother, ready to take over the situation. He looked at the now clean wound. The cut was a straight line across her palm. "You won't need stitches," Will said. "This will heal fine with a few butterfly bandages."

He pulled a package of thin white bandages from the kit, but Stan took them from his hand. Lyra expected Will to bristle from Stan's rude actions, but he seemed unaffected. Likely he had watched scenes like this unfold before. Mary also appeared accustomed to Stan's protective behavior and put up no resistance. Her bemused smile showed she enjoyed the attention.

Lyra felt she was intruding on a private moment. As Stan struggled with the thin bandages, Mary tenderly pulled the ends that stuck to stray skin. Her loving, unobtrusive actions predicted his movements. It was not a scene of fiery, consuming passion but of everyday intimacy. It was a mundane familiarity that came only with the passage of time. With a pang, Lyra wondered if she would ever have that with Will.

Stan finished with the last of the bandages, the white lines cross-patch on Mary's palm. "Where is my spectrometer?" Mary asked, slipping out of the intimate moment as easily as they had slipped in.

"It's here," Lyra said, pointing to the object on the kitchen table.

In the light of the kitchen, Lyra had a better view of the contraption. It looked like a rectangular box, the size of a small brick, on top of a sturdy handle. Shards of glass still clung to the front and back faces of the block. The curved edge of the front suggested a lens, while the flat plane of the back may have been a screen. Lyra couldn't tell what was so interesting or special about it. It looked nothing like the whirring silver instruments she saw at Jordan College.

Stan took a miniature screwdriver from his pocket and removed the top plate. Lyra peaked into the compartment. "It's the spyglass!" she exclaimed.

The bamboo telescope lay nestled between lines of tubing connecting it to the base. Mary gently lifted it from the box and breathed a sigh of relieve. "It was only the outer lens; both the internal ones seem intact. Though we'll need to test it in case it needs to be re-calibrated."

Stan pulled the rest of the tubing out, disconnecting a small square of metal from the end. "It doesn't look like the computer chip was fried either. We may still be able to salvage some of the data if we get this back to the lab."

Mary looked ready to go right then, but Will cut in. "It's almost midnight. We'll all meet at the lab in the morning."

He spoke with such authority no one thought to contradicted him. Stan laid the broken spectrometer components into a padded knapsack. Finally, he and Mary left for their apartment, the front door clicking shut behind them.

Lyra and Will were alone again at last.

"Well, goodnight..." she said, her voice breathier than intended.

Without a word, Will strode to her, pressing his body against hers. Lyra threw her arms around him, her kisses matching his enthusiasm. The energy they had suppressed while Mary and Stan were there peaked in a frenzy.

Will's mother coughed down the hall. Reluctantly, Will pulled away, not wanting to be caught in a compromising embrace. "Goodnight," he said, removing his hands from her waist and disappearing down the hall.

* * *

Lyra's sleep was restless. She couldn't find a comfortable place in the bed. She kicked the covers off, her skin hot to the touch. Wild dream raced through her mind. Memories of kisses with Will in the Botanic Garden melted into deeper fantasies.

There had been few men in her life while at St. Sophia's. The cooks, errand boys and aging professors held no interest for her. Despite (or likely because of) the lack of male figures, the female students were an excitable lot. Without any real boys present, the girls created fanciful stories of imaginary suitors. The worst of their silliness coincided with their soirees. The announcement of one was enough to send the young girls into fits of giddiness. Students traded lists of "eligible bachelors" and made bets on who would be their first kiss.

Lyra was thankful the forced social gatherings were few and far between. None of those men had been able to hold her interest, except Dame Hannah's nephew. But even then, her interest had been in his work, not the man himself.

She did have a basic understanding of how men and women worked together. When they thought no one was listening, the kitchen maids gossiped about their beaus. Lyra had overheard stories of lurid meetings in alleyways. At the time it had sounded wholly unappealing to Lyra. The crass way they spoke seemed nothing like her experience with Will. She had decided their love must be too pure for such things. But now Lyra had a better understanding of what their words meant. She longed to do the things they described.

She spent breakfast peeking up at Will from under her lashes. His hair was still rumpled from sleep. Her fingers itched to run through it. She hoped his mother wouldn't notice her attention. It was not that she felt ashamed of her thoughts. Her feelings seemed the most natural thing. But in her world, "impure" thoughts were sinful. Dismantling the Church and General Oblation Board hadn't changed public attitudes. She doubted Will's world was any different.

The phone in the living room rang. Mrs. Parry excused herself to answer it. "Who could be calling this early," she muttered to herself as she shuffled across the room.

Lyra took the moment of privacy to reach down and scratch Kirjava's ears. Will looked up and gave her a secret smile while Kirjava jumped onto her lap. The cat nuzzled her hand, encouraging her to continue. She stroked the thick, soft fur, making the cat purr. Will closed his eyes and stretched in appreciation.

"That was Stan, dearest," Mrs. Parry said, coming back into the room. "He and Mary are at the lab already."

Will gave an exasperated sigh. "We better get going," he said, finishing his breakfast in two bites. "They've probably been there since the crack of dawn. I don't want to miss anything."

Although she didn't want to miss out either, Lyra would have much rather spent the day alone with Will. For a moment she considered suggesting it, but her curiosity won out. She let the cat off her lap.

As they approached the building, Lyra wondered if the same security guard would be there. How would she explain her presence this time? She didn't need to worry though, as Will led her to the back of the building. He pulled out a flat object the size of a playing card, which opened the heavy door.

The hallways were quiet. No other offices had occupants yet. It would be another hour or two before people filed into work. In their small laboratory, Mary and Stan sat drinking coffee. Mary had dark bags under her eyes but was alert.

"You're not waiting for us, are you?" Lyra asked. The room was undisturbed other than the dismantled spectrometer on the counter. Stan fiddled with the pieces, but it didn't look any better than the night before. If they had been there since dawn they didn't have much to show for it.

"We're waiting for the program to finish," Mary said, waving at the computer behind her. "And Stan is trying to repair the spectrometer, so we can test the blossom sample you plucked."

"What are those about?" Will asked, gesturing to the endless stream of numbers blinking across the screen.

"They're coordinates," Stan explained with excitement. He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "The spectrometer measured the distance between each of the Dust particles. This program maps each of those coordinates- hundreds of thousands of them! – and finds patterns in the vectors... We're waiting for the program to finish the maths," he finished lamely, seeing Lyra's blank expression.

"If we can find a pattern in the shape of the Dust, it might tell us how Lyra came over," Mary continued. "Dust can only travel between worlds through windows, like the knife made. It's possible a window is still open."

"It couldn't have been a window like the knife made," Lyra interjected. "Or Will and I would have crossed back over when climbing the tree."

"Yes, I was wondering that too. It's possible someone else opened and closed the window, but that still doesn't explain why the tree was glowing. I'm hoping the data will answer some of this," Mary said. Her intense gaze willed the screen to hurry, but time dragged on.

After sitting in the lab for an hour, Lyra was quite cross. It was not as exciting as she had expected. Stan and Mary discussed their work, but it was mostly jargon and Lyra was unable to keep up. Years at Dame Hannah's school had taught her to wait. She was better at hiding her impatience, it never got easier. She regretted not convincing Will to run off with her for the day.

He seemed to share her sentiment. Though his eyes tracked Mary and Stan, his hand drew lazy circles on her thigh. The gentle strokes of his fingers tickled through the thin fabric of the skirt. Out of view, Pan and Kirjava were curled together in the corner. Kirjava groomed Pan, her tongue languidly stroked the backs of his ears and neck. Shivers ran up Lyra's spine.

A fog filled Lyra's mind again, until all she could see was Will. The room seemed to shrink around them. She felt like she was about to jump out of her skin. Every fiber of her being hummed, overwhelming her but also somehow not enough.

"Oh my god..."

Mary's oath was quiet, but the words sliced through the air.

"What is it?" Lyra asked, stepping away from Will. She couldn't concentrate with him so near her.

Over Mary's shoulder Lyra saw the numbers had stopped flashing. The program had finished, showing a series of graphs and figures. It looked like a connected web of malformed cones and funnels. Lyra couldn't understand their significance, but they perturbed Mary. She turned to them in shock, her mouth hanging open.

"The dust didn't transport you- it's forming a vortex. The worlds are fusing together. The barriers are opening  _themselves_  up."


	6. The Nature of the Universe

 

The room sat in stunned silence as they absorbed the weight of the words _._ _The Dust is opening the worlds on its own…_

Lyra felt her nerves hum with excitement. She looked across the room at the faces of her companions. Mary and Will were deep in concentration, their brows furrowed. Stan leaned over Mary’s shoulder, staring in open-mouthed frustration. Even Pan and Kirjava had stopped their private conversation, ears perked in attention.

Their expressions all held concern and worry, which kept Lyra from speaking. They must have understood something she did not. She knew Mary’s words were a revelation, even if she wasn’t sure why. It was unusual for Dust to act on its own, at least in a physical sense. It would speak to them through other mediums, like the alethiometer. Or Mary's Qi and dark matter spectrometers. But until now it had been a passive force, only influencing the fringes of human actions, never moving on its own. She had never seen it alter the physical bounds of their worlds before.

Lyra broke the silence. "But, what does that mean?" she asked, perched on the edge of her seat in excited agitation. She wanted to understand what everyone else was thinking.

Lyra’s words brought Mary back to the present moment. She turned to her and Will with a glazed expression, her face was inscrutable. “Look here,” Mary said, turning the computer’s screen so they had a clearer view.

Lyra was not sure what she was looking at. The dots and numbers had stopped flashing across the screen and settled into a static image. She stood up and leaned over the screen to get a better view.

The screen showed a grid twisted into connected cylinders. The web of lines flared out, the material becoming wider on each end. Lyra scrunched her brow, trying to understand.

She vaguely recalled seeing similar shapes and patterns once at Jordan College. She had attended a lecture given by the Physical Sciences department. She tried not to spend more time than necessary studying maths, but the lecture’s title intrigued her. A banner stating Exploring interdimensional Connections hung above the doorway to the gallery. She had hoped it was an expansion on the Lord Asriel’s work. Something that would help her find a way to Will (though she dared not consciously think it). But lecture had only been on shapes interacting in the third dimension, which to her great dismay she learned they were already living in. She snuck out with Pan before the end of the lecture.

“But the knife couldn’t have made that cut,” Will said. “When I cut the windows between worlds the edges felt flat.”

“There are ways to open the worlds without the knife,” Lyra said darkly.

A vivid memory came to her of her father, Lord Asriel, ripping Rodger's daemon from him. A cold void stabbed at her stomach. Was that what happened here? Wouldn't she have noticed it that night at the garden? The glow of the tree happened so spontaneously, she hadn't seen anyone else around. Surely severing a daemon would have been enough of a commotion to grab her attention.

"No this isn't like the windows the knife would make,” Mary said. “In fact, calling it a window wouldn't even be quite accurate. You see, the knife would slice the fabric of the two worlds, so that there was a hole between the boundaries. This is… a fusion of the boundaries. A connection.”

Stan’s agitation took over and he interjected himself. “This goes against all our research! This discredits everything we knew about Dust and the interconnected worlds before. Nothing we thought is right!”

Mary was unaffected by Stan’s outburst but conceded his point. “Yes, these are all new behaviors.” 

She went to the computer and closed the image on the screen, bringing up instead an image of a flat graph. “The barrier had always been flat. One world exists in its entirety on one side, and the other exists in its entirety on the opposite plane. That’s what made cutting the worlds so dangerous. It allowed the Dust from one world to dissipate into another. It would be the mulefa all over.”

“You’re saying that’s not happening now?” Will asked. “The Dust isn’t escaping?”

“No, these funnels meeting at a focal point _are_ dust. That’s what we’ve been mapping. It's acting as both the barrier and the funnel."

Lyra's heart beat so hard she feared it would jump from her chest. If this window wasn’t dangerous… if it didn’t need to be closed… she and Will could stay together! She wanted to dance for joy. She threw her arms around Mary in excitement. “This is amazing!”

Mary stiffened under her embrace before pulling away. When Lyra looked into her eyes, she was met with a worried expression.

Mary clicked a few buttons. The lines of the vortex expanded and curved, until they connected again on the other side. The grid now formed a large floating ring.

"If the vortex continues to expand, as it did with the surge, the worlds will collapse in on themselves. That's what broke the lenses of the spectrometer. It is colliding with atoms that are normally on the other side of this world. Two worlds cannot exist in the same place at the same time."

Lyra's heart sank, this was worse that she had imagined. “Then how are we still here? Why aren’t we splintered like the lens?”

“It seems to be contained around the tree. For now, at least,” Mary added. She picked up the flower stem sitting on the desk and contemplated it. “We need to understand why this is happening. If only we knew what type of tree this is, it could speed up the process."

Lyra felt her face flush, but she knew she could not put off telling Mary and longer. "It's an apple tree," she said sullenly. She glanced at Will, who looked ashamed but resolute.

"I saw the apple when I was climbing the tree and…” she paused, heat filling her face. “I ate it.”

The words were soft but clear. Mary looked astonished. "You ate the fruit off the tree? Not knowing what it was?"

"It was obviously an apple," Lyra said defiantly. "You didn't see it, there was no way it could have been anything else. I know what an apple looks like."

“I ate a bite too,” said Will, coming to her defense. “I agree it was an apple.”

Mary did not look appeased. "Do you have the fruit with you or did you eat it all? What happened to it?"

"No," she said, straining to remember. "We each only had a bite. And then I dropped it somewhere in the garden."

"Do you think it could still be there?" Stan interjected.

 “It was by a thicket of bushes. It’s possible the groundskeepers haven’t noticed it,” Lyra said. Her face was still flush with embarrassment.

"You and Will go back to the garden and see if you can find it," Mary said. "Stan and I will stay here and continue to examine the data."

Lyra could tell she was being dismissed and felt her stomach clench. She could understand their view, but it was an apple. She was sure of it. Any collapse of their worlds was incidental timing.

* * *

 Mary waited until Lyra and Will had left to release the shaky breath trapped in her chest.

"You don't think it's actually an apple tree, do you?" asked Stan, his brow furrowed.

Mary thought for a moment, the intensity of the last day giving way to a bone weariness. She picked up the small bloom.

"If it looks like an apple and tastes like an apple…" she said, a weak attempt at a joke, but the tension in her shoulders remained.

She walked across the room and opened a cabinet, pulling a cloth bundle from its depths. Stan recognized the bundle as the sticks Mary used to communicate with the Qi. He didn't understand the process. Before meeting Mary thought it all new age nonsense. But Mary trusted the Qi, and he trusted Mary, so he kept silent as she arranged herself on the linoleum floor.

Mary tried to marshal the thoughts running in her head. She knew the Dust would not speak to her unless she cleared her mind but found it difficult. Memories of the glowing tree, Lyra's return, and Dust's strange behavior filled her mind.

She threw the sticks in the air, concentrating on the question, willing her mind to remain blank. Once the sticks had fallen, she noted the lay and intersection of each. She continued the process a few times, growing more frustrated with each pass.

"What is it?" Stan asked, no longer able to quiet himself.

"I don't understand," Mary confided. "The answer is obscure. It speaks of a cycle, of the fall... of going back to the beginning."

She gave her head a small shake. "But that already happened. Lyra began our fall. It's what her Magisterium tried so hard to prevent. What more could it be?"

"I'm not sure," Stan said, struck by her words. "Do we need to prepare?"

She knew what he meant. The men in black. The war. But if it had begun again, there was nothing they could do.

"It's already out of our hands," Mary said. “It’s up to Lyra and Will now.”

“I would prefer if the fate of the world wasn’t left to two lovestruck teenagers,” Stan said.

“Yes, they have been acting that way, haven’t they,” Mary said with a slight smile. “But they’ve been through more than anyone else their age. We have to trust Lyra and Will, and the Dust.”

* * *

“I don’t know why we couldn’t have gone this afternoon,” Lyra complained. Her thighs aches from crouching behind a low wall across from the entrance of the garden. While the guards changed at dusk, she and Will would slip past the entrance.

“Because it would have been suspicious to go crawling around in the bushes with people there,” Will said. His eyes didn't leave the guard patrolling the main gate.

Their hiding spot was cramped, and Lyra was glad their daemons hadn't needed to hide with them. Pan and Kirjava went ahead to begin the search without them. But Pan and Kirjarva were still looking when Will and Lyra joined them a quarter hour later.

"Are you sure you dropped it by the bench?" Pan asked.

"Yes," said Lyra, crouching on her hands and knees to get a better vantage point.

"It's possible someone took it," Kirjava added.

"It was partially eaten, but I suppose a squirrel could have made off with it," Lyra said, disheartened.

"Or a groundskeeper threw it away," Kirjava suggested.

Her chest sank as they continued to look, unable to find the apple. They were fanning out further and further from the bench, straining to see in the setting sun.

Unable to locate the apple, Lyra sat on the bench and pulled out her alethiometer. Perhaps it could help direct them to where to find it. She focused on clearing her mind. Will and the daemons gave her a wide berth, continuing their search in silence.

When Lyra's eyes refocused, Will recognized she was done asking the compass. He came back to sit with her. "Did it say where the apple went?" he asked.

Lyra frowned. "I'm not as good at reading it as I used to be, even after taking the classes. I'm not really sure what it was trying to tell me. It kept swinging between the Apple, Man, and Hourglass."

"Do you think it means that a man took the apple?"

Lyra frowned. "No, the meaning isn't usually that literal. I suspect the Apple is in this case, since it was what I asked about. But Man could have a lot of meanings. The wildness of human nature, our innate desires, or-"

_Lust_ , she thought to herself.

She shook the thought off, glad that no one could see her blush in the dark. "The Hourglass could mean time, but it's not a measurement of time. It would be the Alethiometer symbol for that. This is something more than that." 

She stared down at the gold disk, but no new information came to her.

Putting the alethiometer away, Lyra rejoined the search. She inspected a cluster of bushes that were half way between the bench and the tree. Unlike the evenings before, the tree was not glowing at all. Its bark looked unremarkable and dull in the dusk light.

She saw a movement in the bushes, drawing her eye. She crouched down, parting the stubby branches. The tail of a snake flick about and slither out of sight. She recognized the pattern on the scales- it was the serpent from the tree!

"Pan, come, help... please," Lyra called out frantically. How could she have forgotten to tell Mary about the snake? They would not likely be able to find the apple, but the snake could be important. They could take the snake back to Mary and Stan. With the snake in hand, Mary would have a new piece of information to focus on and all would be forgiven. Or at least moved past.

Pan and Kirjava darted into the bush. Lyra and Will surrounded it, attempting to corral the snake.

"Be careful!" Lyra said, watching Pan dart out of the way from the angry snake.

Kirjava leaped, getting the serpents head firmly in her jaws. The snake could not strike out.

As Kirjava came out of the bushes, there was a violent flash of wings, knocking Lyra off balance. She landed with a crash on the dirt, scraping her arm. She looked up to see Kirjava in battle with a hawk, who was prying the snake from her grip. The hawk struck out with its talons, striking Kirjava across the face.

The cat leap back hissing. Will clutched his own face in sympathy, as though feeling the cat's pain. The two young people rushed forward to grab their daemons out of harm's way.

"What was that hawk doing?" Will said, angry and shaken. "There was plenty of other prey around, it didn't need to attack Kirjava."

"That wasn't a bird of prey," said Lyra, her face white as a sheet. "That was a daemon."


	7. Searching

"Slow down, Lyra. I can't understand what you're saying."

Mary's voice crackled with static through the receiver. Lyra took a frustrated breath, pressing her check into the hard plastic of the phone.

"I said, it was a daemon!" Lyra said breathlessly into the mouthpiece.

Will sprang into action as soon as Lyra came to her realization about the sparrow hawk. He had grabbed Lyra's arm, pulling her from the Botanic garden and running to a red booth down the street. He called Mary and Stan at the lab immediately. Lyra saw the determination, and perhaps fear, lining his face.

They were pressed close together in the confines of the box, Will's chest flush against her back. Their breath fogged the glass windows, the heat of their bodies creating a sweating fog. Their daemons waited outside the box, keeping an eye out for any passersby who would disturb or overhear them.

"We were looking for the apple, and I saw the snake-"

"What snake?"

"The snake that was in the tree when I found the apple."

"Lyra! -" Mary let out a frustrated groan at the new information.

Lyra barreled on before Mary had time to scold her. "And we were going to capture it and bring it to the lab, but a hawk grabbed it and flew off. Except it wasn't a hawk, it was a daemon!"

Mary was silent for a moment. "Are you sure? How could you tell?"

"I remembered the hawk from a party I was at, the night I came over! I was dancing with this man, and his daemon was a hawk. I got a good look at it while we were dancing. It has the same hooded eyes."

"Did you see the man there tonight?"

"No," Lyra said, "I would have recognized him if I saw him. He was the nephew of the woman who runs the school. He had just gotten back from an expedition. He was the one who brought the tree to the garden!" 

It all fit together in her mind. Jude was behind all this.

"But who planted the tree on this end?" Will asked from behind her.

"It must have been Jude," Lyra said conclusively.

"It's possible," Mary conceded. "As much as any of this is possible. I'm going to see if I can confirm who discovered the tree in this world."

Will took the phone from Lyra's hand. "We're going to lay low for a while, then head back to the garden when the coast is clear. We'll meet you there."

"Alright, Stan and I are headed over now."

"Stay safe," Will said before hanging up.

He laced his fingers through Lyra's and pulled her from the red booth.

"We can't stay here," he said, scanning the street around them. "It's too exposed."

He led them down a dark alleyway, their hands still intertwined and Pan and Kirjava walking beside them. Lyra could barely see past the tip of her nose and put her trust into Will's confident lead.

"Where are we going?" she whispered, but the words echoed through the silence.

Will slowed his pace so he could lean towards her, his lips inches from her ear. She could feel the heat of his breath against her face.

"We're taking the long way back to the garden. Don't say anything for a few minutes. We need to know if we're being followed."

She nodded, her hair brushing against his shoulder. Though he could not see her face he felt the movement. They continued in silence, though Lyra was sure if anyone had been nearby, they would have heard the thumping of her heart. Together they walked slowly through the dark web of connected alleyways. Will stayed one step ahead, guiding Lyra around broken glass and protruding dust bins.

Lyra was focused on navigating over a cracked step when Will grabbed her, pulling her into a doorway alcove. His hand flew over her mouth, stifling her instinctive shriek. She steadied herself, and Will released her. He was alert, his head turned to the opening of the alley connecting to a side street. She strained her ears, gazing towards the opening. Then, she heard it.

_Footsteps._

They were on a dark road, far from where people normally walked in the evenings. This part of the city was primarily commercial, open and bustling during the work week but quiet otherwise. The side streets hadn't even been outfitted with pole lights. It was unlikely to meet another person walking this way, but not impossible.

They waited a moment, their breath tight in their chest until two men appeared at the opening of the alleyway. Though dark, their outlines were visible against the light coming from larger roads down the way. Their large frames took up most of the passage, and they wore dark suits. Lyra felt Will go stiff against her.

"Are you sure they ran this way?" the first man asked the second, removing any of Lyra's hopes that these men were not looking for them.

They were staring into the unlit alley, looking right towards where Lyra and Will were hiding. If they tried to run now, they could get a second's head start but would reveal themselves in the process. Lyra turned towards Will, searching for any sort of sign when she felt Pan and Kirjava pass by her ankles. She instinctively reached for her daemon, but Will pulled her back.

She waited, watching the two men as they decided if Lyra and Will may be in the alley or had run further up. If they took any steps closer, she was sure they would hear her ragged breath. 

There was a loud clanging of overturned metal bins across the street, shattering the silence. Lyra realized why Pan and Kirjava had slipped away. She said a silent prayer, thanking Pan and willing him to outrun the two men now headed his way.

As soon as the men left their line of sight, Lyra and Will ran from the doorway, crossing back over the path they came. They ran back onto the main street, valuing speed over stealth. They ran until the street ended, T-ing into another roadway.

"Right or left?" Lyra asked.

Will looked over her shoulder. He shook his head, winded from the sprint as well. "We're running the opposite direction of the Botanic Gardens."

"We can't go back that way," Lyra said. "We'd be running right into their path!"

Will gave a sharp nod. "We need to get out of sight for a moment. Until we know where they're going or Pan and Kirjava can find us."

He scanned the surroundings. There was little to offer protection from being visible. On one side of the road was a small, open park. Nothing more than a few scrappy bushes and bare trees. Across was the front office of a warehouse, empty and closed for the evening.

Will walked over and tested the doorknob. The door was wooden and old, not the large sheet metal of the doors opening to the main warehouse. He stared at it for a second before raising his leg and kicking into the door jam. The door gave way with a sickening crunch. Lyra flinched at the noise, but the men in suits did not appear.

They hurried into the office and jammed the receptionist's chair against the front door, propping it shut. They found a spot to hide behind the front desk. From their vantage point, they could see out the large bay window of the reception area. The glowing streetlamps were enough for them to see outlines and movements on the street. The thick legs of the desk and pitch-black darkness obscured them from view.

Will sank down to the floor, and Lyra sat next to him, her head resting against his shoulder. They sat motionless together, staring into the empty street beyond the window.

* * *

It took Stan and Mary less than five minutes to gather and pack their belongings and equipment into the back of Stan's car. Normally a cautious driver, Stan took advantage of the cover of night and zoomed through stop signs and lights without waiting.

They made it to the garden in record time.

The front gates were locked, as expected, but they found a weak spot in the fence. The top bars had rusted off but were yet to be replaced, leaving an easy path for them to cross. Stan helped Mary over, and carefully passed each part of their equipment before jumping over himself.

Keeping an eye out for unwelcome visitors, they set up their equipment in front of the tree as they had done the night before. Mary pulled the amber spyglass from her pocket. The intricate spectrometer was too difficult to redesign within a day, but the spyglass would show her enough for now. She brought the instrument to her eye and gazed at the tree. The Dust surrounded it in a thick haze, lazily swirling into small orbits. The movements had none of the frantic and purposeful energy of the night before.

"I wonder where Lyra and Will are," Mary said, bringing the spyglass down from her face.  She looked about, as though the young couple would walk through the bushes at any moment.

"I'm sure they'll be here soon. Will said they were going the long way back," Stan said without looking up. He struggled to set up a tripod, unable to find balance on the grass. While nothing worked quite as well as their spectrometer, Stan insisted on bringing a variety of technology.  He was determined to see whatever they could capture.

Mary cautiously stepped forward to touch the tree, careful to be able to leap back in case she felt herself being transported. The tree felt warm to the touch, but the Dust did not engulf her as Lyra had described.

She tried to shake off her own frustration, but it slowly bubbled to the surface. She had dedicated her life to studying Dust and its principles. Stan was right in his outburst the night before. The Dust surrounding this tree defied everything their research had told them. 

But would that be so terrible? A small voice in the back of her head made itself known. She hoped her years of research would be useful. She wanted to prove something greater than herself. Greater than everyone she knew. It was what she had searched for as a nun, and though she tried to box it in, what she was still searching for now.

But would it be so terrible if all that was wrong if it meant Lyra and Will could be reconnected? She had watched for years as Will readjusted to living in his own world. Despite his own struggles, he had always been admirable. Will took comfort in knowing he and Lyra did the right thing in breaking the knife. Instead he redirected his energy in caring for his mother, and even herself on many occasions.  She felt she owed it to be there for him. He approached his life with the same determination he showed as a young boy, verging on stoic even. 

In many ways, Mary considered herself lucky. She was blessed to have her journey across the worlds.  But she was also blessed to have not met her other half during that time. Though she missed Lyra and all their fellow companions, her journey had been a solitary one. Readjusting to life was reacclimating to the mundane, not learning to live without.

She knew Will's struggle was different. He connected- his soul connected- with another person. He craved not only someone to love, but someone to understand him.

Mary was lucky to have found Stan. Though he had not been on her journey, he still understood her person in a deep and intimate way. They shared the same core. They were bound together by a love of knowledge. They had a shared determination to understand the fabric of the universe.  She wanted the same for Will, and with each passing year, it felt more evident he would not find it in his own world. He had begun to fold inward to himself and Kirjava. He was unable (or unwilling) to connect with the world around him.

Being wrong about Dust gave her something unexpected. It gave her hope. If Dust could not only think but act, it had the power to transform their physical world. There was still a chance Will and Lyra could reunite- permanently. They could be together without harm to others. She closed her eyes said a silent prayer, willing the Dust to hear her. Please, please do not let this end as the last time.

After a moment, she opened her eyes and brought the spyglass back to her eye. She was unsure what she expected, but still felt a pang of disappointment.  The patterns wafting through the air showed no change.

Letting go of her feelings, she walked back to Stan, who was unaware of the course of her thoughts. Together they waited for the young couple to arrive.


End file.
